


Funny Running Into You

by ToHeck (Issandri)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Car Accidents, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9863981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issandri/pseuds/ToHeck
Summary: Fareeha didn't know meeting up with Angela Ziegler again would be such a hit. Dr. Ziegler didn't see her coming, either.





	

Angela slammed the brakes with a screech. 

There was a flurry of chaotic movement. Time compressed into one fearful second where she couldn’t breathe; everything was spinning, her hands gripped at the wheel, ready to swerve a

away to keep from hitting something. Force pressed her body against the car door before shoving her in the opposite direction and then forward again before everything came to a stop. 

When she opened her eyes, Angela found herself straining forward, the steering wheel inches away from her face. Blinking rapidly, she pushed the frazzled mess of blonde hair from her eyes with a shaking hand, gasping as her mind slowly came into clarity. Everything seemed fine. The person she’d thought she’d seen in the middle of the road was nowhere to be found. She patted herself down, checking for bruises, blood, anything out of place. Everything felt fine, aside from the seatbelt digging in her chest. Nothing to rush to the hospital for.

The ringing in her ears subsided, and she slowly became aware that her radio was still playing a pop tune. The jaunty beat was contradictory to her current state of mind. Her cup of coffee had tilted at a dangerous angle in its cup holder. Looking down at herself, she realized some of its contents had splashed over her lap. _Great_. 

She looked away from the mess dripping all over her skirt with a confused murmur. As Angela lifted her eyes -- she did a double take when she saw a forearm dangling onto the hood of her car. 

With mounting horror, she watched as it slid and disappeared over the other side. 

_Oh_...

“Oh my _gott_!”

She’d hit the person. 

Angela fumbled to rip her seatbelt off, shoving the car door open, and hurrying out into the cold where she could see the human-sized lump.

It was definitely a human person, she realized, scuttling over to their body. Angela despaired she hadn’t even noticed them running in front of her car.

“Are you alright? I am so sorry!” Angela held her breath when the stranger did not stir or make a sound. “Oh god.”

_Relax Angela. What do you do first?_

“It will be alright. Don’t move. I’m going to call the ambula--”

A groan floated up as the person shifted. Angela almost tripped in her hurry to kneel down next to the person. She pressed a gentle hand on their back, relief washing over her when it became apparent they were still conscious and breathing. “I’m okay,” they said, voice wobbling as they spoke.

Angela switched to doctor mode immediately, her expert eyes taking in their current condition. No blood or external injuries that she could see. Their limbs looked like none were at a certain odd angle, but she wouldn't know unless she looked under their thick jacket and oversized sky-blue sweater. At the same time, she knew jostling them around without checking for a concussion would be a bad idea. 

Angela leaned closer to check their head for a bump or bruise, but stopped fussing when the stranger began to move. Nevertheless, Angela kept her hands hovering over their shoulders, and watched worriedly as they pushed themselves up with a grunt. 

She was about to scold them to take it easy. Gently coax them to lie down, murmur a few words of comfort... 

“It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Ziegler.”

Until Angela saw that familiar face.

Like a flipped switch, whatever care and comfort Angela was ready to give all crashed down into an ugly mess. Her nose flared, pale eyes growing cold under the severe wrinkle of her brow. “You.” 

“Wait,” Fareeha Amari said, holding her palms up, “I can explain.”

“ _You_.” Angela pulled her hands away from Amari’s shoulder, as if she had been holding a handful of hot coals. “How dare you show your face around me again, you… _you_ \-- ”

“I admit I went a little too far, but I will pay for the damages.”

“You manipulative, lying, shameless _jerk_.”

Amari winced, pulling herself up to her knees. “And I deserve that, too.”

Noticing the apparent pain on her face, and despite their tumultuous history together, Angela grabbed Amari’s shoulder and attempted to push her back down, letting out a frustrated growl when the woman wouldn’t budge. “Wait, don’t stand up yet, you idiot. I am taking you to the hospital.” Even jerks deserved to live, she thought. Yet for someone who was as spineless as Amari, it was harder to push a boulder than budge this woman. “What in the world were you thinking, jumping in front of my car like that? Are you mad?”

“Well,” Amari said, her words coming out slowly as if she was chewing every syllable with care, “I was calling out your name, but you didn't hear me.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re hurt, and I almost drove over your body.”

“Dr. Ziegler, you didn’t hit me with the car.”

“Then how did--?”

“I tripped.” 

Angela hoped the look she sent Amari was as dry as the pavement they were sitting on. 

“I tripped on the sidewalk.” Angela watched Amari stand up and spread her arms apart, as if it was a valid way to check for injury. “See?” Fareeha said. She sighed, her arms dropping to her sides when Angela stared at her, unimpressed. “Would you like me to dance around to prove it to you?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Angela bristled. “I don’t know why you are so obsessed with talking to me. Send me ten emails within a week? That’s fine. Leave me voice messages for the past three days since I moved back to the city? Okay, I was _this_ close to calling the police, but sure, I can live with that. But then you had to pull this stupid stunt off just to get my attention?” She attempted to stand up without slipping on her heels, and pushed Amari’s hands away when she offered her silent support. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ran you over with my car, Amari, even if I hate your guts.”

Amari could only watch, helpless, as she was ignored once again. Angela marching back to her vehicle. “If you’re not hurt, or on the verge of collapsing because of a concussion,” Angela threw the door open with an angry flourish that made it bounce against its hinges with a creak. “I would prefer it if you let me be.” 

“Wait, Dr. Ziegler, please--” Fareeha chased after Angela, fumbling on her footing. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about all of this.” 

Her apology seemed to fall on deaf ears. Angela stared down at the dark, sticky stain that had blossomed all over her carseat, and groaned when she realized the mess stretched up to her radio and dashboard. Well that would take a lot of time to clean up. Dark coffee was a pain to wash off car upholstery. A part of her wanted to slap a bill on Amari’s face and yell insults, but another part of her knew how childish that would be. Dr. Angela Ziegler was a respected scientist in her field, and no matter how much she wanted to humiliate Amari and laugh in her face, she knew she had to be better. At least, better than her. 

Fareeha Amari. 

Barely two years had passed since the last time they saw each other. Angela allowed herself to deflate, running her fingers through her messy hair, feeling too emotionally drained to deal with this. Last time she googled Fareeha Amari, shamefully not so long ago, the journalist was gallivanting around the other side of the world, writing several political pieces regarding corrupt people she’d never heard of before. Knowing they were continents apart suited her just fine, and she was perfectly happy ignoring Amari existed until over a week ago, when Angela had to leave her community work for a while and move back to the city. For some reason, Amari found out about the infamous Dr. Ziegler and her return to S.T.A.R. labs, and decided to take advantage of it.

Angela counted to ten, gave in to her curiosity, and turned to study Amari’s attire with a look that pierced every small detail of her person. The cheap camera was absent from her chest. No backpack, no work laptop, no notebooks, not even a pencil behind her ear. Amari was wearing that ratty denim jacket she often wore; scuffed sneakers, and an old baseball cap featuring some inane basketball team logo. Fareeha Amari still looked like the mousey, soft-spoken, hunched-over woman she met a year and a half ago. She also realized it was probably the first time Angela came across the online news writer outside of her work, yet her presence here and now only made Angela more suspicious, and didn’t calm her fears at all. 

After years of dealing with negative press, Angela liked to think she knew their dirty tricks quite well. 

“I still think you should go to the hospital, even if you didn’t hit your head,” Angela said offhandedly, biting out her next few words with a heat she didn’t know she was capable of: “Don’t worry, I won’t get money out of that.”

She almost missed the remorseful expression on Amari’s face, choosing instead to slide back into her car, and pull her seat belt back on, grumbling at the sticky mess on her seat. 

Seeing this woman now, Angela remembered -- through unbidden memories -- how she admired Fareeha Amari once. Her tender honesty and kind heart were something to be admired, and she happily looked past Amari’s quiet personality in favor of drawing out the brilliant and creative mind underneath. How could she have known Amari’s visits were made with malicious intent? Angela and her colleagues made sure to give her the time of day, explaining concepts and procedures patiently. Open and frank with their practices, thinking their efficiency would be enough to get them support and recognition from the public. Worst of all, Angela had thought she had made a new friend out of the young journalist. It was a cruel twist of fate when they had their efforts thrown in their faces with blatant lies and accusations written about them.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about the car.” Angela shook her head at herself, biting the insides of her cheek. 

_Drive away, Ziegler. She is not worth it._

Fury was an emotion she wasn’t used to. Even people who saw her as their no nonsense boss knew she was not a vengeful or petty woman. But Fareeha Amari, not a few feet away from her, inspired too many vengeful thoughts in Angela’s brain that it almost disturbed her.

“It’s not just that.” Despite her towering stature, Amari seemed to hunch over even more, trying to make herself as small as possible while she continued to speak. “I’m sorry about that article I wrote, about you and your research, and everything.”

Angela’s voice was cool, and her eyes even colder as she froze Amari on the spot with a look, “I don’t understand what you are apologizing for, Ms. Amari,” she said. “From what I gleaned from your article, my team’s practices were unethical. Questionable, at best. I mean, what did a group of highly experienced scientists -- each of various professions meticulously handpicked to handle that kind of research -- know anything about uncovering the secrets of a dumb old space rock?” 

“Okay...”

“The last known piece of Kryptonite on this Earth. An object that probably could have helped propel humanity’s technology up to 50 years in the future. But what do I know? You are the true genius in the scientific field, and I applaud you for your entire one week of research and meddling.” Angela was shaking after her tirade, her chest heaving, and her face flushed red; blue eyes blazing with a darker shade. She raised an eyebrow, feeling extreme satisfaction as she watched ten different devastated expressions cross Amari’s face. “And for the record, Ms. Amari, you know absolutely nothing about me, or the people you insulted with your article. I’m afraid, out of everything you and your previous boss had done, that is the one thing I will never forgive. Good day.”

“Wait--”

Angela pulled her door shut with a slam, interrupting Amari’s attempts to speak. Her heart raced with glee for finally getting up close and confrontational with someone who tormented her thoughts for a year. The one person who almost ruined her life and profession. Now Angela was wiser, and knew in her gut if she allowed the leech back into her work life, it would lead to disaster for everyone around her. Heartache. Crying her eyes out. Binge eating.

“Dr. Ziegler, please.”

_Drive away, Angela, forget this exchange ever happened._

Yes. Angela was going to dig up her biggest, brightest coffee mug -- the one with floral spots around the rim, and relax with a good book under a warm light. Maybe even put up some scented candles, play a little rock music. Thinking about her plans for this evening felt like a balm to her soul already.

She pushed down the brake of her humming vehicle, checking her rearview mirror, and was about to drive off, when she heard something heavy smack the hood of her car. Angela jumped, ready to berate the idiot who had the gall to try the same trick again--

“DR. ZIEGLER, GO OUT WITH ME?”

Fareeha watched Dr. Ziegler’s blue eyes grow wide. 

“I- I mean,” Amari stumbled over her words, and began to fidget. “Go out with me as platonic acquaintances. Two people who know each other, or who once knew each other, catching up like old times. Before I, er, betrayed you and your friends for... my money-grubbing boss.” She winced. “Or we could pretend we never knew each other and start all over again? I can come in, and we can use different names for a while. You can be Lois and I can be Khalidah...”

Angela pressed the switch for her car window, the glass sliding down in response, too slowly for Angela’s liking. She then poked her head out into the cold, giving Amari a perfect view of her stony, pale face, and the red, furious flush of her skin which reached below her neck. 

From where Amari stood resolutely in front of the car, she could see the pale, vice-like grip Angela had on the driving wheel. For a brief second, Fareeha wondered if Angela had the nerve to run her over after all.

Angela cleared her throat. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to sound like an idiot,” Amari said, tugging at her sweater collar, sweat trickling down her forehead no thanks to her heavy clothing, “What I mean is, I just want to talk. Buy you a coffee and talk. You’ll never have to see me again afterwards, I promise.” 

Amari cautiously took a few steps back when Angela got out of her car again, stalking towards her like a cat would approach a terrified rodent. A look of panic crossed Fareeha’s face, and she raised an arm up to her chest, as if to protect herself in case Angela lashed out and punched her in the face. 

“Just for one night, and I won’t bother you ever again.” Amari added, her voice lowering to a whisper as she swallowed her fears thickly, “Look, that article was a mistake, Dr. Ziegler, and I was wrong about everything. About all of you. I want to fix my mistake.”

Angela narrowed her eyes at the sorry display. “I am afraid that will be a bit of a problem for me, Ms. Amari. I will never go out with you,” she said, jabbing a finger in Fareeha’s chest, “Even if you were the last woman on Earth. Even if you wrote a billion apology letters, or got us that rock back, or somehow changed your odious personality to someone I can actually stand. Who knows? Miracles can happen.” Angela’s shoulders bounced to a shrug, her pinched smile mocking Amari for even daring to entertain the thought. “Forget about whatever you had planned in that little head of yours, because you are not getting another interview from me. I am not falling for it.” 

The ugly pause between them made Amari squirm. But nonetheless, she set her jaw and squared her shoulders, speaking with a tremor in her voice. “I was a rookie writer who got desperate for a break, I’ll admit that. We were pressured to do something wrong, and I didn’t do anything about it because I was an idiot, ” she said, pushing her glasses up over the bridge of her nose. “I’m not trying to excuse what I did. But I was selfish, stupid, and a coward for writing it, and not doing anything after the fallout. Please let me try to fix my mistake. I’ll write another article, another one in your favor this time. I’ll take back everything I said before, I swear it.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No ma’am, not a chance.” Amari stood straighter, puffed up her chest. She was so tall when she didn’t hunch over. “I’ll do anything.”

_Anything?_

The slow approach of nighttime turned the skies a few shades darker than purple. The two women -- little more than complete strangers to one another -- spared a wistful silence for the hurt created between them. Angela turning to her thoughts, questioning if she had the strength to face this after all.

Fareeha lowered her eyes when looking at Angela became too uncomfortable. Still, the tone of her voice reverberated with brave resolve nonetheless. “I had no choice, Dr. Ziegler. I’m,” she stuttered, “The last thing I wanted was to hurt a friend. I am so sorry.”

Angela closed her eyes and exhaled.

“Dr. Ziegler?”

“You are impossible.” Angela said, wrapping her arms around herself when she felt the heat of her anger subside, leaving her cold and filled with regret. She stared at the light of the lamps nearby, allowing it to lull her into a calm. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

She heard Amari laugh through her nose, the idiot ducking her head in that bashful way Angela refused to acknowledge. Not her grin, either, nor the cut of her jawline, nor the way she kept fiddling with the stem of her glasses. And when Angela thought Fareeha Amari couldn’t look any more infuriatingly human instead of the lying, scheming, evil person Angela had cultivated in her head for over a year -- Amari took the ratty old jacket off her shoulders, and placed it around her shivering back. “I’m sure I didn’t hit my head.” Fareeha said, gesturing for Angela to keep the jacket before she could return it, “And, I’ll be fine.”

Angela groaned loud and long at the heavens, kicking her heels at the ground with a grumble unbefitting a woman her age. The jacket was heavy but warm, just like Amari’s stupid, soulful eyes. She could easily imagine Fareeha’s evil boss bullying her around, and that did not make resistance any easier.

“I can’t believe this,” she grumbled.

Her colleagues would be furious. Her boss would think she overworked herself again. Hell, she would be furious at herself for days to come. 

But would it truly hurt to give this person one more chance?

“We can’t go out tonight.” Angela said. 

Amari’s frame drooped, but she nodded in understanding. “Okay. That’s all right. I will stop bugging--”

“Tomorrow. Twelve noon, I take breaks in a coffee shop near the lab. Don’t be late.” 

There was a short beat, until Fareeha did a little jump in victory, discreetly pumping her fist at her side. “ _Thank you_.” It was hard for Angela not to roll her eyes, and she had to bite her lip to keep the sides of her mouth from curling up. “Thankyou, Doctor Ziegler!” Fareeha lowered her loud voice when she realized the embarrassing ruckus she was making, “Thank you so much. You won’t be sorry. I’ll get started on it right away.” 

Sighing and shaking her head, Angela half turned back towards her car, trying to avoid the silly jig Amari was doing with her big, clumsy feet. “Yes, well.” Flicking her gaze back to the journalist, Angela crossed her arms, unconsciously tugging the borrowed jacket closer around her. So far, this was the strangest day she ever had to experience her entire life, and the entire conversation left her dizzy and desperate to go back home and nap. “Do you, ah, need a ride somewhere?” 

“Oh, no, it’s all right.” Fareeha said, breathless. She pushed her glasses up, which had slid further down her nose during her little dance. “I have a bike, but thank you.”

Angela stared at Amari for far too long during an uncomfortable silence, her mind flipping through images of Fareeha riding a bicycle in this weather, with a bell, wicker basket, and -- somehow she kept herself from chortling when she imagined training wheels. She awkwardly nodded her head, mindful that she was supposed to be _mad_ at this woman, and she should keep things from getting too personal and too close for comfort. 

After mumbling their short goodbyes, Angela ended up lingering around that side of the road; watching as Amari waved at her, cheeks flushed dark, before scampering off and disappearing into an alley.

_I definitely need a lie down after this._


End file.
